A guy in a lesbian club, a tough girl in a boy's world... we are proud not only to confuse others (confusion after all, has become a fashion accessory) but moreover, to be confused . clenched fist raised, hair down. same thing.
in the language of love, the same word is used for "genre" and "gender"; angle sorted for the cd then. "what is the genre of this cd? " asks you neighbour, "what is your gender?" asks your mum. genre, gender, genre, genre, gender, genre...
And what about your family, what is their "genre"? more: who the fuck is your family? normal-not normal? whatever. we probably all reconstructed ourselves here, in this "dysfunctional family", the one who fucks genders and genres.
anyway, at kill the dj, straight genre and gender have been longtime dead and buried. an absence shard by all of us in a dark and seedy club, where blondes wear a moustache with elegance, where the lady toilet attendant is a guy in mini skirt, where the sweaty run down white vest is the flag of our personal revolution.